


Comfort

by Beckyhelene



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Detroit Evolution, Detroit Evolution spoilers, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Graphic Description of a Hate Crime, Graphic description of a murder, I have no idea what I’m doing and it shows, It’s sad you guys, M/M, Not Beta Read, Playing fast and loose with mind palace and zen garden stuff, Post-Detroit Evolution, Protective Gavin Reed, Thankfully he gets a hug, Triggered Gavin Reed, Troubled Nines, You Decide, ambiguous Hank and Connor relationship, i don’t know why I put our guys through this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckyhelene/pseuds/Beckyhelene
Summary: Weeks into their newfound relationship, while going over their latest case, Gavin and Nines each reflect on what things bring comfort and Nines finally tells him about “Zen Garden Gavin”.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 15
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be strictly about zen!Gavin, thanks to being hit by thoughts of what would Gavin think of zen!Gavin but I just couldn’t stop myself from wrapping it around some cotton candy fluff, as well as other things. Enjoy!

Gavin opened his eyes, his mind slowly backing out of his dream. The same one as always. And yet, it was also somehow different. Instead of the all too usual feelings of being trapped, stuck dying alone on the street until his consciousness was able to break free and he woke up shaking from—and desperate to shake  _ off _ —the horror he’d just escaped, there had now been a calm surrounding him. Gentle. A hopeful light in the black sky his younger self stared up at as he bled out.

_I’m here, Gavin. You’re not alone._

The dumb kid sprawled out on the sidewalk would be okay. He wasn’t scared anymore. He just kept staring up at the light in the dark, letting it keep telling him that.

The calming humming noise of cat purrs, and the feel of the each day growing more and more familiar weight in his hand, eased Gavin into further wakefulness. He felt the fingers holding onto his hand begin to pull off, the weight preparing to leave him. Cautious. Worried the surprise of waking up with someone beside him—touching him—would bother Gavin.

 _Not a chance_ , he thought to himself with a smile, _you’re not going anywhere_.

Gavin tightened his own loose hold on the weight—the hand—to keep it in place. The man beside him got the message and resumed his own grip on Gavin.

Gavin turned his head away from the window to look at his other side. Get a look at his companion; the light in the dark, the pleasant weight in his hand, and heart. 

“Watching me sleep, Tin Can?” He teased, a sleepy smile stretching across his face.

There was Nines, sitting up beside Gavin on the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him with an orange ball of fluff perched on his lap purring away at the fingers of Nines’ hand—the one not currently encased in Gavin’s hold—scratching her behind one of her ears.

“I heard you from the kitchen,” Nines commented, as if feeling the need to explain his presence. “I would’ve woken you up, but,” a small, almost mix of surprised and touched, smile played across his lips, “you seemed to become less...agitated...once I sat beside you. I figured as long as that stayed the case, I’d let you sleep.”

“Mm,” he murmured around a yawn as he glanced down at their joined hands. The white left in the wake of Nines’ retracted skin seemed to glow under the moonlight peeking through the slats of the window blinds behind them. “What time is it?” He casually asked, his thumb lazily drawing circles on Nines’ knuckles.

“Four thirteen,” Nines replied after a moment, no doubt consulting his computer brain as supposed to looking at the bedside clock or reaching for Gavin’s phone. “There’s still a few hours before we need to get ready for work, if you want to go back to sleep.”

“Nah,” Gavin replied, “I’m good.” Nines was quiet for a moment, weighing his options on the best way to reply. 

“Alright,” he finally said. 

Things were still relatively new between them. The fine lines between support and unintentional overbearing were still being drawn. Not to mention the echos of Gavin’s accusing Nines’ of wanting to “fix” him back in his attempts to shove Nines away, still lingering in the shadows of Nines’ memory and insecurities. It was an ongoing, though certainly not unpleasant, learning experience of figuring out when things were actually needed and one wasn’t just being too stubborn or insistent for their own good. For both of them. 

Nines was dancing the dance of learning the difference, while Gavin was right there with him on the dance floor learning to not always shut everyone else out, and accept help when it was truly needed, which ultimately helped immensely in Nines continuing education on when were the right times to push or not. When to take the lead in the dance, and when to just let it flow.

This was just one of those times. A few more hours of sleep would certainly be in Gavin’s best interest, but Nines had to trust Gavin to know for himself what he most needed right then. Regardless if it was him genuinely not feeling the need to go back to sleep, or more of a desire to not return to the grips of his dream, it was Gavin’s choice and Nines had to respect that.

The orange fluff on Nines’ lap emitting a chirping meow drew him out of his reflection. The cat stood up and stretched on top of Nines’ legs before moving to plop down on the small space between Gavin and Nines on the bed. Her owner was awake now, and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get attention from two sources now.

“Spoiled little asshole,” Gavin chuckled as he sat up and brought his free hand over to the cat. He and Nines each focused their gentle scratching on their respective sides, causing the purrs to increase in volume as the blissed out cat closed her eyes and took in the double dose of affection.

“She’s sweet,” Nines playfully countered, his fingers sliding down to scratch under the cat’s chin.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Gavin said, smiling and rolling his eyes.

They sat there enjoying the feel of each other’s presence, surrounded by the quiet peppered by cat purrs and distant noises of the city outside slowly starting to wake up, for a few long drawn out comfortable minutes; their fingers occasionally brushing together as they continued to shower attention on the feline lounging between them. It was nice.

“Oh, I guess we’re not needed anymore,” Nines remarked with amusement after a while as the cat suddenly stood up, gave herself a shake, and trotted down to the foot of the bed before hopping down to venture off to parts unknown.

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty used and discarded over here,” Gavin jokingly called out after the swishing orange tail disappearing from view.

“Maybe she just started to feel three’s a crowd,” Nines mused with a smile.

“Question is though; was she the one feeling like a third wheel, or did she ditch us because we’re cramping her unicycle style?” Gavin joked, resulting in an actual laugh from Nines.

“I guess we’ll never know,” he said with a shrug. Gavin responded with a chuckle as he slipped his hand out of Nines’ hold to stretch his arms out in front of him, waking up the muscles in his shoulders and upper back.

“So, been going over the new case?” Gavin casually asked, curious as to what Nines may have been up to while he slept.

The two had settled into a vague facsimile of domesticity with Nines spending most of his evenings at Gavin’s apartment. Which meant Nines often found ways to pass the time they were separated by Gavin pulling together a few hours of sleep. He’d go over their current case, read a book either brought with him or found in Gavin’s apartment, watch some movie or series Chris had recommended, or—much to Gavin’s annoyance, at first—clean. 

It had initially made Gavin bristle to wake up in the morning to find cleaning and laundry done, or his books or movie and music discs reorganized and put back in a proper place, It at first felt too..intrusive...and like being “fixed” or trained to his liking. Over a short amount of time—and, thankfully before he’d had a chance to put his foot in it by taking his frustrations out on Nines—though, he realized it was just Nines’ attempt at keeping busy at night. Whether that meant reviewing their current case on his own, puttering about the apartment quietly cleaning, or going out to the 24 hour grocery store to restock some forgotten essential in Gavin’s kitchen, it kept him from having to just sit and stare at a wall with nothing to do. Gavin could then no longer find it in himself begrudge Nines reaching out for anything to keep away from hours of boredom.

“A little,” Nines replied, “but I haven’t come up with anything new. It looks like it’s just a standard android hate crime.”

Gavin noticed the way his voice seemed to subtly catch as well as the tension in his jaw around the words “just” and “standard”, the ill emotions he had at brushing off the mistreatment of his kind poking through the professional curtain he tried to keep up. Gavin let one of his hands fall back on the bed, the back of a finger lightly brushing against Nines arm to tell him he was there it he needed him. The light touch seemed to be enough, as he observed a patch of skin on Nines’ arm recede where he had touched, as well as Nines becoming a little less troubled and tense as he continued talking.

“So, I just did some work in the kitchen, and that’s when I heard you and came in here,” he said.

“Work in the kitchen, huh?” Gavin asked, “should I be concerned?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your cabinets,” Nines replied with a smirk. He had early on tried to implement, what he had thought was, a “better” organizational system in Gavin’s kitchen storage. After the third time Gavin grumbled at his plates not being in their right place, or his favorite mug not on the right shelf, Nines quickly reverted everything back to how it’d been before his meddling. “I just put away some of the groceries you forgot to unpack, and cleaned out the coffee pot.” The two smirked to themselves at that, each keeping a private joke or secret to himself.

Gavin hadn’t  _forgotten_ to do anything. He had _intentionally_ left them in case Nines had needed something to do. Nines was well aware of that, but given that Gavin wasn’t the type to make a show of such little thoughtful gestures—be it groceries left out on the counter, or his starting to keep small six pack bottles of Thirium drinks in the apartment without any comment or fanfare, or other small yet for Nines meaningful touches showing how much Gavin wanted him around—Nines decided to let Gavin think that he truly believed the abandoned groceries were an oversight.

“Well, we’ve got some time to kill. Might as well see if refreshed eyes gets us anywhere,” Gavin suggested as he turned and climbed out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a few more paragraphs of fluffy cuteness, but they’ve accidentally been lost. So, I figured I’d post this up anyway and then take time to mourn the loss of fluff before trying to recreate the paragraphs for chapter 2, haha!  
> Hope it’s been enjoyable so far!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elements of Gavin and Nines’ latest case hit them each a little too close to home, and Gavin has another sweet surprise for Nines up his sleeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos left for the previous chapter. They really meant a lot, and I’m glad to see you guys like the story so far :)

Nines looked over the case on his tablet in the living room as Gavin stood at the other side of the apartment in the kitchen. He couldn’t help smile slightly as the familiar—comfortable—scents and sounds from the kitchen floated into his senses. 

The crinkling sound of Gavin opening the bag of coffee grounds.

The aroma from the opened bag filling the apartment, and Nines curiously tilting his head upon realizing it smelled differently than the coffee Gavin usually had.

The rustling as Gavin shook some of the grounds into his coffee maker. 

The sound of water being poured into the reservoir. 

The clinks and clanks as Gavin retrieved a mug and spoon from their respective cabinet and drawer.

A thumping noise as Gavin drummed his fingers on the counter.

“Did all of Hank and Connor’s files transfer over to us?” Gavin asked over his shoulder, bringing Nines out of his sensory reverie.

“We have everything,” Nines replied with a nod. Their current case—double murder and mutilation—had initially been Hank and Connor’s, their first active possible hate crime investigation since returning from working with the NYPD a couple of weeks ago. They had just finished gathering initial statements and reports before word came down they were requested to conduct similar training they’d done in New York with the LAPD, and thus Fowler had handed their open case to Gavin and Nines the previous day. 

“Well, guess that’s some good news,” Gavin said, before the apartment was filled with the churning and bubbling of the coffeemaker coming to life. Nines opted not to have to speak louder over the coffeemaker, and simply quietly read over the case files as he waited for Gavin to join him.

The victims—an AX400 and a PJ500, registered under the names Sadie and Paul, respectively—had been found dead, mutilated, and covered in anti-android graffiti, in an alley behind a movie theater a few day’s ago. They had both been stripped of their clothing and possessions, sustained several signs of blunt force trauma including Paul’s extensive damage to his neck and ergo his voice modulator, their white skinless faces blacked out with spray paint, and the words “die plastics” carved into Paul’s chest and “robo bitch” spray painted onto Sadie’s—though there were signs that an attempt to carve the message into her body had been made. The walls in the alley had been covered in similar anti-android messages in more black spray paint, as well blue blood, likely obtained from a missing finger on Paul’s left hand. 

“They both worked at that...gallery.....thing, right?” Gavin asked as he poured his coffee. Even without looking up, Nines could tell Gavin was likely aimlessly waving his free hand at that.

“The Carl Manfred Memorial Gallery, yes,” Nines affirmed as he went over the victims’ backgrounds.

“And we’re sure this has nothing to do with Markus? A targeted message to him?”

“The gallery’s owned and run by Carl’s son, Leo, and his father’s estate,” Nines pointed out, “Markus hasn’t had much to do with it beyond the ceremonial ribbon cutting for the android crowds, and maybe a few discrete or totally private visits here and there.” 

“Still,” Gavin replied as he began to make his way over to join Nines in the living room. “It’s not like Markus’ connection to the Manfreds is some big secret.”

“Hmm,” Nines conceded, “well, it looks like Connor did make a recommendation to Jericho for heavier protection around Markus for the time being, just in case, but even he and Hank were uncertain if this had anything to do with him.” He glanced up to make a further point, but was caught off guard at seeing Gavin carrying a mug in each hand as he walked over. 

“What?” Gavin asked.

“I hadn’t realized you’d started double fisting your coffee,” Nines teased with a smirk.

“Very funny, smartass,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes as he set one of the mugs on the corner of the coffee table near Nines’ bent knees and then continued onward to the other side of the couch, his favorite black mug still in hand.

Nines frowned in confusion at the mug on his side of the coffee table. He was puzzled by it being there, and even more so by how it clashed with the rest of Gavin’s belongings. Though Gavin had a few mugs at work with humorous sayings and cartoonish imagery—likely joke gifts from Tina accumulated throughout their years of friendship—Gavin’s own collection of mugs at home tended to be much more simple monochromatic. Two things that could not be said for the white and blue striped mug Nines was currently appraising. 

“Is this new?” He asked. “It.....doesn’t exactly seem like your style,” he went on to diplomatically state.

“Well, duh,” Gavin said with a shrug as he sat down and moved his own tablet closer to himself. “How else was I going to tell it apart from everything else? Doesn’t that stuff cake into shit, or something? Like, you can’t really completely wash it all out of dishes or whatever?”

“Stuff?” Nines asked, growing even more confused. Instead of answering, Gavin nonchalantly sipped his coffee. Nines had no choice but to investigate the item himself and picked up the mug to get a better look at its contents.

Thirium. 

Gavin had brought him a cup of Thirium. 

Gavin had _**bought**_ him a cup, in which to drink Thirium, for the apartment.

Nines sat back, unsure what part of this revelation to react to first. The act of service. The gift. Both made his pump regulator now work just a little harder as his “heart” began to beat just a little faster. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gavin nervously watching him. Seemingly holding himself on edge as he waited to see how Nines would react. Did Nines like it? Had Gavin made the wrong call with the design or colors? Was it too cheesy?

“Thank you,” Nines finally spoke, his voice soft as he did a poor job of biting back a sort of dreamy smile. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.

“No problem,” he replied, relaxing beside Nines and doing his own poor job of hiding the pleased smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Nines wanted to question how he hadn’t even heard the sounds of Gavin retrieving a second mug, or opening a bottle of Thirium and pouring, but he realized Gavin must have cleverly hid his surprise behind the noises from the coffeemaker. The thought that Gavin had wanted to make some “subtle” reveal of the surprise, and to see Nines reaction close up, made his smile grow.

“So,” Gavin said, clearing his throat to shift their focus back to work, “Sadie and Paul.”

”Right,” Nines nodded, his tone back to being all business, and setting the mug— _ **his**_ mug—back down on the coffee table. “I suppose it could’ve been a message to Markus, or even to the only gallery to publicly feature android created art work, including Markus’ own painting, but...” He shook his head. “You would think, if that had been the case, that they would've left that on or around the bodies, not ‘robo bitch’ and ‘die plastics’....or Paul and Sadie’s would’ve been found at or near the gallery. Not behind a movie theater clear across town.” Gavin scrolled through the files on his tablet to refresh the case notes in his mind. “I think their having worked at the Manfred gallery might have just been a coincidence,” Nines concluded.

”A movie theater?” Gavin questioned. “What, android date night gone wrong?” The, perhaps too insensitive, chortle that bubbled in his chest died in his throat when he caught sight of Nines troubled frown as he continued to quietly read from his tablet.

”Actually, yes.”

”Well fuck, don’t I feel like the asshole,” Gavin mumbled as he cringed and brought a hand up to rub his forehead. “Okay,” he sighed, going back to his tablet. “Okay, wait, here, the records Jericho sent over...” Gavin said as he tapped on the screen. “It says here, Sadie was a nanny-bot for some college professor’s kids before deviating. Is there any chance this Johnson guy maybe held a grudge and tracked her down?” Gavin was desperate to find anything that could point to a targeted attack. Anything that led away from this having been a random attack and the couple just having been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Targeted, personal and premeditated, crimes were easier. A clear line of suspects to pick through and zero in on. Something random? It required putting too much hope in getting some sort of lucky break to identify suspects amongst the ocean of anti-android crazies. 

Beside him, Gavin heard Nines sigh and reach a hand over to his tablet, scrolling down the file he was currently reading.

”Johnson and his wife were the ones who reported them missing,” Nines pointed out, highlighting the report. Gavin frowned and continued scrolling on his own to the interview transcript with the couple.

The Johnsons had painted a sort of fairytale of the couple: Sadie had been the children’s “nanny-bot” as Gavin had put it, and Paul had been a lecturer under Professor Johnson at the university. Whether by chance, or somehow recalling and then actively seeking each other out, they had crossed paths after individually deviating, they had then fallen in love, and had even adopted a YK400 child after the revolution to expand their family. 

“Shit, they had a kid,” Gavin murmured as he read. “Okay, _now_ I feel like the asshole.”

”I suppose it’s possible they could still be suspects,” Nines offered, “their story about Sadie and Paul reaching out to them and the couples reconnecting could be a lie. Maybe there was some ill will?”

”Yeah, but I doubt Sadie and Paul would’ve been letting their kid have playdates with the Johnson kids if that had been the case,” Gavin sighed, watching the backing for possible suspects crumble away. Nines read further down the file and saw for himself what Gavin was referring to.

The two families had become very close. The children got along, and the two sets of parents behaved like the stereotypical “parent-friends” image. Connor’s notes indicated his contacts in Jericho recounted stories of the two families having days in the park together, and the android family going to see the eldest Johnson child’s peewee hockey games.

In their interviews, The Johnson children all talked about how happy they’d been to see Sadie again when they all reunited months ago, and how much they liked playing with her and Paul’s son, Byron. As for the android child himself, Byron’s interview had indicated a similar positive relationship between the two families, and had been filled with his referring to the Johnson parents as his aunt and uncle. 

What could be recovered from Paul and Sadie’s memory files had illustrated much of the same. For all intents and purposes, Sadie’s—and by extension, Paul and Byron’s—relationship with the Johnsons was like some heartwarming tale of a family’s former nanny going off to have her own family, and then establishing a new relationship with her former employers and charges.

The night of Paul and Sadie’s murder, the Johnsons had hosted a playdate between their children and Byron, allowing the android parents a night out on the town. When the two hadn’t returned for Byron by the end of the evening and there’d been no word from them by the following morning, the Johnsons had grown worried.

“As alibis go, I suppose having the victims’ own son attesting that both Johnsons were home all night is pretty solid,” Nines commented. There was already enough to cast doubt on the Johnsons being suspects, even without having Byron and their own three children to provide an alibi.

Gavin frowned and placed his chin in his hand. ”It doesn’t rule out them getting someone to do it for them, or something,” he mumbled, but even he could see it was a reach. “Maybe....they wanted the kid for themselves?” He proposed. “Some sort of early empty nest fears? Get a kid that’ll never grow up. Jericho’s implemented some pretty strict rules about humans adopting android kids. Maybe they wanted to go the easy way, or get this specific kid.”

“Even with how rigorous the human/android adoption process now is, I’m having a hard time believing anyone would kill in order to bypass it,” Nines replied.

“Doesn’t rule out them wanting Byron, specifically,” Gavin reiterated. “Anyway, a few years ago, I had a case where a guy killed his neighbor because the ham sandwich he saw him eating through the window looked tasty. Sure, the murder probably had more to do with the guy being a full fledged Iced out wack-job, but the point is there isn’t much that’d surprise me anymore,” Gavin argued. That point was even more so the case now, in the wake of having encountered an (albeit, now former) android serial killer having wanted to upgrade and “evolve” herself with advanced parts. 

“A ham sandwich, really?” Nines asked, his eyebrows rising incredulously, genuinely wondering whether Gavin was just messing with him with that one. He then sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, according to Connor, aside from some tearful goodbyes, telling Byron they loved him and will always be here for him, plus begging to be informed of any progress on the case, the Johnsons fully cooperated with Byron being taken back to Jericho,” Nines pointed out. “I’m assuming, regardless of whatever attachment they may have for the child, they figured Jericho would be the best place for him to be.”

“So, what you’re saying is, it looks like the Johnsons are just what they seem: decent people who just lost a couple of close friends,” Gavin commented.

“Yes, but I suppose it’s too early to write them off as suspects completely,” Nines shrugged. “Though, your theory about someone wanting the child for themselves might have some merit.” He swiped through the files on his tablet until he reached photos of the bodies. “Paul was an older model, his casing not as thick as Sadie’s...”

“Which explains why he got the carved out note, and she at most got a few nicks,” Gavin interjected. “It looks like they tried doing the same to Sadie, gave up, then went for the spray paint.”

“Yes, exactly,” Nines agreed, “but, even with Paul’s weaker structure.....carving in those words like that, it would’ve required a considerable amount of strength. Perhaps that more than a human.”

“You think an android did it, and just _made_ it look like a hate crime?” Gavin asked.

“It’s just as possible as if the Johnsons had organized and targeted Sadie and Paul, and arranged for it to take the guise of a hate crime,” Nines said, circling back to Gavin’s earlier suspicions. “Android adoptions aren’t as strict as human/android ones; not to mention any actual process not existing and being pretty superfluous in the early days after the revolution. Any android could just...claim...a child into their care, and make it official once the registry records for Jericho were being created. It’s unlikely an android would feel the need to kill for a child, but...” Nines shrugged. “Perhaps someone developed an attachment to Byron and wanted him as their own?” 

“There were wool fibers found on the bodies,” Gavin noted, “most likely from gloves. Androids don’t feel cold, and they don’t have to hide fingerprints, so what would be the point?”

“To throw off suspicion.” 

“Maybe, but even still the writing’s too sloppy for it to be an android,” Gavin countered. “My guess? That ‘considerable amount of strength’ was all thanks to a Red Ice and PCP combo.” 

“As well as rage....and hatred....and...,” Nines voice trailed off as his jaw grew tight again, his eyes narrowed on the carvings in Paul’s chest. Gavin reached over to Nines’ tablet and swiped the image away, forcing him to look at something—anything—else. 

“Still, I guess it couldn’t hurt to talk to some of Paul and Sadie’s other known associates. See if anyone ever noticed someone paying special attention to the kid,” Gavin concluded, deciding not to dismiss Nines’ theory entirely.

“Mm, good idea,” Nines murmured with a nod. Gavin watched, worriedly, as he set his tablet down on the coffee table and picked up his mug with both hands.

“For now, the strongest angle we’ve got is hate-crime,” Gavin stated. He shifted closer to Nines until their knees touched, giving his partner some comfort as he continued to swipe through his own tablet. “There hasn’t been any chatter among the known anti-android groups,” he commented.

“No one’s claiming the bragging rights,” Nines muttered, resulting in Gavin gently brushing his knee against his. “I suppose that will change once it gets out to the public.”

“Probably. Hank made a good call keeping it out of the press for now,” Gavin noted, his being loathed to actually compliment the Lieutenant evident in his tone. “Otherwise we’d have every whacko that’s ever just held up a ‘melt them down’ poster pissing themselves to take credit for it.” 

“Plus, it might drive the actual perpetrators out of hiding. They can’t get the satisfaction from seeing the story on the news, maybe it’ll make them angry enough to go on one of the hate group sites and demand to know why no one’s talking about it.”

“Yep, and an angry criminal is a stupid criminal. My favorite kind,” Gavin commented. “I’ll ask Tina to keep monitoring the sites. The longer there’s no coverage, the more likely some asshat might crack.” 

“We can only hope,” Nines agreed. He set his mug back down and retrieved his abandoned tablet. 

“Still no hits off of the pawn shops,” Gavin absently muttered as he stroked his chin and continued to peer over the files at his fingertips. “How many pieces are we keeping an eye out for?”

“Four,” Nines recalled as he looked over his tablet, pleasantly surprised to see the slide Gavin had hastily swiped to to shove the crime scene photo away from Nines’ gaze had been the alert sent out to the pawn shops in the city. “A necklace, given to Sadie by the Johnsons, a watch-“

“A watch?” Gavin asked, his face scrunched up in bewilderment. “Since when does an android need a watch?”

“It was apparently a gift from Leo Manfred,” Nines said with a small chuckle. “I guess no one’s published a gift guide for androids yet.”

“Someone should get on that,” Gavin snorted, “what’s the last two?” He asked.

“Their,” Nines paused, a wave of pity rolling through him, “rings.”

“Rings?” Gavin asked. He cast a questioning look over to his partner, before the realization dawned on him. Android marriages weren’t legally recognized, they had at best been given some acknowledgment as domestic partnerships, and even that varied from state to state. It of course didn’t stop android couples from exchanging rings and even having their own weddings. In fact, one of the few times Gavin and Nines hadn’t been “joined at the hip”—as Chris liked to tease—was when Nines had accompanied Connor to Markus’ own ceremony six months ago. “Oh, guess that explains Paul’s finger,” Gavin muttered to himself as he brought his attention back to his tablet. It was likely there had been an attempt to remove his ring right along with Sadie’s. If for whatever reason Paul’s had proved to be difficult, the killer—or killers—may have then opted to just take the whole finger, only then deciding to use the dripping blue blood as part of their graffiti. “Let’s just hope these assholes don’t decide to keep everything like some sick trophies, then,” he added, noting the pawn shops could be their only source for leads at this point. 

“I wish we knew how many to be on the lookout for,” Nines commented, as he resumed swiping through his own files. “Connor’s reconstruction was inconclusive, and the CCTV footage just shows Sadie.” The attackers had certainly been clever in their choice of scenery. It was one of the few areas in the city where security cameras weren’t lined up and down the block. All they had was a bank down the street catching footage of Sadie running out of the alley, stopping at the nearby curb and turning, staring back at the alley for a moment as she seemed to shake with sobs, before slowly disappearing back into the alley. And then nothing.

“It had to have been…” Gavin replied as he waggled his fingers as if running off a count in his head, “At least five or six?”

“How do you figure?” Nines queried. 

“Well, there were two of them. There’s no bullet wounds, so it’s unlikely they were just incapacitated with one hit. If just one perp rocked up and started wailing on one of them, there’s nothing that shows the other wouldn’t have been able to stop them. Same would go for two, or even three. My guess is, if these two were as committed to each other as it seems, they would’ve fought like hell to save one another. So, there had to have been more than one of these bastards on each of them.”

“Connor’s reconstruction did suggest Sadie may have been held back by at least two of the assailants,” Nines agreed after a moment. “And if you add in Paul being held down….as well as the assault itself….that does suggest an additional two or three….”

“Or more,” Gavin suggested. “Paul was a tall guy, it’d probably take some weight to keep him down.” 

“Yes, of course,” Nines said, seeing Gavin’s point. He looked back down at his tablet and swiped back to witness statements. 

Staff, human and android, that had been on shift at the movie theater the night of Sadie and Paul’s night out had commented on seeing the two together. Hank and Connor had interviewed the workers; most seemed uninterested in their recount of events—viewing the androids as just any other couple that passed the ticket booth or concessions counter at any given time, their only difference being ordering Thirium drinks instead of soda, of course. There had some who had looked genuinely saddened by the news and commented on how sweet they’d seemed, even an usher who had caught sight of them holding skinless hands during the movie. There hadn’t been any signs of any human worker harboring ill will or disgust at having to serve androids, though, as Hank had included in his own notes, it wasn’t likely someone with prejudice towards androids would work alongside androids at one of the few establishments that actually sold android refreshments. If any of them harbored anti-android beliefs, they’d managed to keep it to themselves to not get on a coworkers’ radar, thus they may have been well practiced enough to keep it from a couple of detectives gathering statements. Though, Connor had made some notations of one of the “uninterested” workers whose heart rate seemed to elevate around the fourth time she had rolled her eyes in talking about the couple.

There had even been glimpses of Paul and Sadie’s relationship in what was left in their memory files. Snapshots of their life together with their child, as well as of the night in question. Paul sending Sadie the occasional loving smile and sneaking a kiss during a walk through the park, as well as later during the movie. Sadie’s eyes shining with love and happiness after they ducked into the alley for one more private moment. Paul leaning against a wall as his wife looked up at him through her eyelashes, a sweet smile on her lips as she popped up to the balls of her feet for a kiss. Then static, noise, as everything went horribly wrong; Sadie’s muffled crying, and Paul’s attempts to cry out—to her, or for help, it was unclear—but unable to due to the damage to his voice modulator, being the only things that had so far been pieced together from the wreckage.

“It must have been awful, for both of them,” Nines sympathetically stated as he read over one human’s flowery depiction of Sadie and Paul, and his own mind going back to the reconstruction of the crime scene, “to have to watch the person you care about suffer, and be unable to do anything about it.” He paused as he felt Gavin instantly become rigid beside him.

“Yeah,” Gavin said, tense, one hand balling into a fist on this lap. “It’s definitely not what I’d call a party. I wouldn’t recommend it,” he added, his head ducked down and only offering a sidelong glance to Nines.

Nines could tell by his tension and the haunted look in his eyes what Gavin meant, and just how much he could _empathize_ with whatever Sadie and Paul must have felt. Now, Gavin was the one with a tight jaw, his throat moving and Adam’s apple bobbing as if he were trying to swallow down his emotion. Nines couldn’t help curse himself for his careless comment. 

Gavin’s mind had drifted back to a whole other alley on a whole other night. When he’d come upon Nines, and all he could do was hold Nines’ face in his hands, say his name, beg him to stay awake, and try to keep him from slipping away.

Of course that night still haunted Gavin. Of course. It had only been two weeks since Nines had come to the apartment and was welcomed by Gavin suffering the after effects of a nightmare:

It was the night of Hank and Connor’s “welcome home” celebration at Burn’s Alley upon their return from New York. Gavin had had a persistent headache the entire day and missed the celebration in favor of just going home after the day’s work was done. Nines was ready to skip the party as well to stay with Gavin in case he needed anything, but Gavin had brushed off his worry and insisted he go off and have fun with the others. 

Nines had assumed everything had been fine, until he found Tina outside of the bar, talking to a near-frantic Gavin on the phone. He’d asked if Nines was alright. Was he with her? Was he safe? Could she keep an eye on him? It had been enough for Tina and Valerie to leave the party early to escort Nines to Gavin’s apartment. He’d found Gavin sitting on the edge of the couch, waiting for him, anxious and afraid. 

Once Nines had walked through the door, Gavin had at first tried to brush it all off as a casual misunderstanding and Nines hadn’t needed to come by. Eventually though, he finally spoke of his nightmare. How he’d been back in the alley where he’d found Nines after Ada’s attack. How the alley seemed to grow the more he tried to run to Nines, making it impossible to reach him. It had then shifted to the CyberLife hospital room, only for the same to happen there. Every time he took a step past the doorway, Nines’ bed moved further and further away from the door. No matter what Gavin did, he couldn’t get to Nines. 

Nines had gently coaxed him back into his bed and sat beside him. He had had Gavin rest his head on his chest, his ear directly on the right spot to hear the steady beat of Nines’ Thirium pump, to relax and reassure him. Each thump, each reminder that Nines was there with him, had unfurled more and more tension out of Gavin’s body until he was soothed enough to be lain down on the bed proper and covered with a blanket to drift back off to sleep before Nines busied himself with picking up some of the books and other things that had been knocked down in Gavin’s previous frenzied pacing around the apartment.

Through the gift of hindsight, Nines now realized it was after that night that he’d started seeing the little touches of “forgotten” groceries and bottles of Thirium drinks around the apartment.

 _And now, a mug_ , his thoughts were quick to remind him. All little signs and gestures to show Gavin wanting Nines there, in the apartment, with him.

“Gavin, I’m sorry,” Nines spoke, once the gravity of how much Gavin could relate to their victims’ plight hit him. He set his tablet down before reaching over and taking the other tablet out of Gavin’s hand and doing the same with it. He then took Gavin’s fist in his hand, his fingers gently urging it to unclench before twining them around his as Gavin allowed his hand to be held. “That was….thoughtless, I shouldn’t have said….” He sighed, shaking his head as he berated himself.

“I’m okay, Tin Can,” Gavin muttered. He let himself further relax, his fingers tightening around Nines and their palms flush together. He watched the skin on Nines’ hand slip away, leaving a wake of white all the way up to his elbow. Gavin sighed, almost relieved by the sight, and leaned closer, pressing against Nines’ shoulder. “I’m okay,” he repeated, his free hand coming over to press a thumb against Nines wrist, at his pulse point, for further proof of life. 

“Okay,” Nines replied, tilting his head to rest upon Gavin’s.

The two were once again consumed by a comfortable silence as they sat together holding hands for a few minutes. Their thumbs rubbing against each other’s hand in comfort and affection. Again, it was nice.

“Just, uh, do me a favor?” Gavin asked as he moved to sit up, forcing Nines to do the same. He continued to hold Nines’ hand while freeing Nines’ wrist to use the other to pick his tablet back up from the table.

“What’s that?” Nines asked. 

“When you do your whole…” He started, releasing Nines’ hand to aimlessly wave his hand and gesture to Nines’ head. “That thing you do, when you go over the case up in there. Leave the crime scene photos, whatever Connor reconstructed, and...and the gruesome shit…..leave it out.”

“Gavin, I would need to have all of the information to best process the crime and hopefully perhaps come up with some new possible leads,” Nines argued with a confused frown on his face. Why would Gavin not want him to have the whole case on hand?

“Nines, I mean it!” Gavin snapped, desperate and sharp. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger at the way Nines startled and leaned back at his outburst. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...that was…..shit, I’m sorry.” He groaned and sat forward, hunched over and leaning his arms against his thighs.

“Gavin, I’m here for you,” Nines stated as he carefully moved back closer to Gavin. “Whatever’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, his tone less tense and self flagellating. He let his tablet fall into the couch as he clasped his hands tightly together and rocked back and forth a couple of times in some sort of self soothing gesture. “I just…” He began, calm enough to cease his rocking. “I don’t want you going over the...the upsetting stuff….on your own,” he continued, somehow gathering the strength to pry himself open. “I...I know that…..with androids…..if your stress level gets too high it can…..fuck, I don’t know….make your head explode or something?” 

“Not….exactly,” Nines gently corrected. “It _can_ lead to-“

“Not looking for a lesson in android physiology, Tin Can,” Gavin cut in. “I just mean...it’s bad, right?” 

“Yes, it could be bad,” Nines confirmed.

“Right, well, I just….I’m not saying not ever….not trying to…. _fucking_ put you in bubble wrap…..just not now….not so soon after....” Gavin swallowed thickly and scratched at the stubble down his neck. “I don’t want you to risk getting to that point without me...or someone….anyone…..just,” he clasped his hands again. “Not without someone around to help you calm down or...or whatever…”

Nines blinked a few times as he took in—and pieced together—Gavin’s stammering words to make sense of it all. He was worried. He was worried about Nines. Whether his fears, the concept of “not now, not so soon after...” stemmed from the assumption that Nines was still recovering from the attack on his operating system, and was therefore perhaps still a little fragile, or had more to do with “too soon” being afraid to lose Nines so early into their….redefinition of the term “partner”.....was unclear. But, regardless of why, Gavin was worried and imploring Nines not to put himself into a life threatening situation. 

Nines considered insisting he was fine, that he could handle the upsetting details of the case. Tell Gavin he was being ridiculous and that there was a newly orphaned child out there that deserved justice be served. Deserved for the investigators on his parents’ case to put all their resources and capabilities into finding who had taken his mother and father away from him. Deserved more than Nines working at half efficiency because Gavin thought he was some fragile porcelain piece, needing his hand held as he was encased in bubble wrap and packing peanuts to keep from breaking. 

But, Nines realized, what good would that have done? Gavin was worried and afraid. Nines pushing back would only result in Gavin growing more upset. It would needlessly worsen the situation. And, really? Was Gavin asking such an imposition and inconvenience from him? He just didn’t want Nines to face the horrors of their job alone. Could he really be dismissive or annoyed by that?

“Okay,” Nines finally spoke. He leaned forward and hooked his chin onto Gavin’s shoulder. He held Gavin by the other shoulder with one hand, while the other moved down to fit between Gavin’s clasped hands. “I can’t make any promises. I’ve seen all of the files, they’re in my system, but” he gently squeezed Gavin’s shoulder to reassure him and tell him his request had not been for nothing, “I can try to block out the ‘gruesome shit’ if I’m going over everything while no one else is around. If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied. He gave Nines’ hand a squeeze with both of his hands. “That’s what….I think that’s what I need right now….” He sheepishly admitted. “If you can...I mean, you said it’s already in your head….”

“I’ll just….throw a curtain over those bits,” Nines replied with a shrug against Gavin’s back. He was relieved to feel Gavin’s shoulders get a little less tense, and the drum his carotid pulse point near Nines ear became a little less rapid and insistent. “If that’s what would make you feel more comfortable, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” Gavin said, relaxing even more in Nines’ embrace.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll get to the zen!Gavin talk someday...I hope, haha!  
> Also, before anyone asks, I’m deciding to deliberately leave some things ambiguous—such as the nature and extent of Connor and Hank’s relationship (couple, father/son, friends, etc) and who exactly did Markus have his ceremony with. Full on black screen, even I don’t know the answer to either question.  
> The only couple I’m covering here is Reed900, and a little bit of Valerina as seen above. Anything else? Totally up for you, the reader, to decide and interpret as you see fit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An innocuous question from Gavin opens doors to conversations about Nines’ thoughts and feelings.

Gavin and Nines resumed going over the case on their respective tablets. Gavin had gotten up for a refill of his coffee and used that as an excuse to move from the couch to the adjacent sitting chair, likely needing to escape his moment of anxiety as well as the reminder of it that lingered in Nines’ proximity. Nines did not to take offense to it. Gavin needed space. If he wanted Nines gone he knew how to achieve that goal; feigning a desire to get some more sleep before needing to start the day, or even demanding Nines leave. Nines was actually grateful to see whatever Gavin needed right then hadn’t driven him to such an extreme, and simply went back to going over the case. 

The two spent the next hour studying the case files, planning the next steps in the investigation, and occasionally airing their frustrations as each dead end to pinpointing the identity of the perpetrators popped up.

The analysis of the spray paint used on the bodies and on the wall came up with a common brand that could’ve been purchased anywhere. Same went from the traces of metal left transferred from the aluminum bats used. There had already been a request put in for sales records from nearby sporting goods stores in the hope to track any purchases of the bats, but there wasn’t much hope in that providing solid leads. Who’s to say the bats were purchased recently, or locally? Perhaps it could help if this had been a crime of passion—a group of anti-android bigots catching sight of an android couple and foaming at the mouth. But if it was the more likely scenario—a group out hunting for androids and Sadie and Paul having been the unlucky ones to be found—the bats, spray paint, gloves, all could have been in their possession for weeks or even months.

”Have you heard anything from Ada?” Gavin asked as he swiped through his copy of the crime scene photos. Nines set his tablet down and raised an eyebrow at Gavin.

”You _cannot_ think she’s a possible suspect,” Nines incredulously asked. His LED flashed red for a moment, annoyed that Ada would even be considered to have been involved.

”What? No!” Gavin quickly replied, his face contorting in a confused look as to why Nines would even think he would suspect that. “That wasn’t what I meant.” He shrugged and set his tablet down on the table. “I just mean that...before reaching the conclusion that Paul missing a finger probably has more to do with these assholes taking it as a trophy, and/or getting his ring,” he continued, trying to explain his thought process to Nines, “I, for a second, thought maybe we had a copycat on our hands. You know, stealing body parts.”

”A _finger_ isn’t exactly an advanced biocomponent,” Nines pointed out. Well, maybe his own could be, Nines realized, the forensic technology imbedded in his finger tips could have been seen as valuable if someone new was collecting advanced android body parts. 

”Yeah, yeah, smartass,” Gavin groaned with a roll of his eyes. “But an average idiot trying to jump in on the panic of ‘serial killer still out there’ might not get the ‘advanced’ side, and just hear: android parts.”

”Alright...” Nines drew out, trying to see where Gavin was going. Gavin shrugged. 

”Well...I thought, finger might have been a copycat of the android serial killer.....which made me think of Ada.....so, yeah.” He said with an aimless hand gesture, a weak flourish to cap off his explanation.

”I see,” Nines said, accepting Gavin’s explanation that bringing Ada up was just a part of associative thinking and not adding a possible suspect to their current investigation. “Well to answer your question, I haven’t heard from her since that night in the warehouse. I would’ve mentioned it if I had.”

”Really?” Gavin asked, doubt clear in his tone. He held up a hand to cut off the defensive reply he was already expecting from Nines. “Not saying you’d be deliberately hiding anything....just that,” he shrugged, “maybe that’s your business, you know? Not my place to know. No judgement, I get it if you-“

”Gavin,” Nines cut in. “I haven’t heard from her.” He reiterated the point to shut down Gavin’s ramble and doubts. The fact was, had he heard from Ada, Nines doubted he’d even want to keep it to himself. Ada was a secret being kept between himself, Gavin, Tina, and Chris. Nines wondered if he may need help or just advice if Ada reached out to him, and if so, who could he talk to besides one of the other three in this particular circle of trust? There was no one else.

”Alright,” Gavin said with a nod. He tilted his head to gauge Nines’ expression. “Are you okay with that? With not having heard from her, I mean.” Nines looked off to the distance for a moment to ponder his feelings in the matter.

”I think so,” he concluded, “I would like to think she’d only reach out if she was in desperate need of help, beyond what she could get from just my interface. So, perhaps that means she’s....” He paused, wondering what it was he hoped for Ada, “happy, and making a life for herself somewhere.”

”You really think that’s possible?” Gavin questioned.

”You don’t think becoming a deviant made a difference for her?” Nines asked, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

”Hey, I have no doubt that _you_ made a difference for her,” Gavin replied. He made sure to emphasize Nines role. Yes deviancy set Ada free, but it was Nines’ determination and compassion towards someone he would have had every right to have wanted to see destroyed, that saved Ada. Deviancy was just the tool he used to do it. “But,” Gavin continued, “c’mon Nines. _You_ carry around your, I don’t know....guilt? For your _programming,_ whatyou _might’ve_ been. That shit was all theoretical. You never actually were the hunter or killer CyberLife designed you to be. Ada? Well, you heard her that night. She said she remembered everything. She remembered killing those androids. She was afraid of herself. She was terrified of hurting you or anyone again. She even wanted us to lock her up.”

Nines considered Gavin’s point; the theoretical, possible monstrosities versus the actual. It had actually been something Nines had discussed—or at least tried to discuss—with Connor in the past. Connor carried his own set of baggage from his life before deviancy. He had _actually_ been the deviant hunter, the frightening tale deviants shared amongst themselves. Regardless of the fact that he was the less advanced prototype and Nines had been created to be faster, stronger, the more ruthless upgrade, the fact remained Connor had been the very thing Nines was afraid he could’ve been if it hadn’t been for Markus. It was why, though Connor was seen as a part of the revolution (especially by the androids he had freed from CyberLife tower that night), he stayed away from that spotlight.

It was just as true now than it had been the night of the revolution. The news footage of him standing on the shipping crate with Markus and his inner circle showed Connor had stayed in the back and away from attention. He had confessed to Nines that due to his past—even with the software instability that had led him down the path that had made deviancy all the more possible, or the fact that he chose deviancy and it wasn’t something forced upon him through a touch and connection—and how recent his “switching sides” had been, it had taken convincing from the other four for him to even climb up onto the crate and stand before the gathered hordes of androids alongside them. That was as close to the frontline of attention as he could handle being.

Connor hadn’t completely distanced himself from Markus, or Jericho as a whole, but he certainly gave anything having to do with android leadership a wide berth. He could handle dealing with contacts within Jericho for investigations, and he had maintained a friendship with Markus comfortable enough that he could express his concerns for Markus’ safety surrounding whatever latest speech or wide gathering for more improved android rights Markus would be planning at any moment in time, but that was the extent of what he felt he had any right to. Trying to convince him otherwise (which had been attempted by Nines, Hank, and even Markus himself) would only lead to Connor shutting down the conversation and briskly changing the subject.

Connor had found peace in the anonymity of just remaining an android detective at the DPD—which was a surprising amount, considering his being the **first** android detective—and the life he’d built since becoming deviant. Nines had to wonder how then was Connor comfortable working with the NYPD, and now the LAPD, training officers in android crimes and relations. Perhaps it was a cognitive dissonance, or an ability to compartmentalize his own complicated feelings towards his place in android history. The changes in police procedures was a side effect of Markus’ message and impact. He could handle—and perhaps even appreciate—being the mouthpiece to spread that message of change, within police work, a venue he was familiar and comfortable with, and with Hank at his side, than he could being under the spotlight of standing at the side of the world-changing leader himself.

As Nines himself had begun to try and make peace with who he had been programmed to be and who he wanted to become, he had tried seeking guidance from Connor due to it being a burden they shared. Aside from a few bits of advice, and offering a listening ear should Nines need it, this was also an area Connor was hesitant to discuss. Whether it was due to his discomfort with his past, his own fears over how easily things could have gone differently, or the uncomfortable truth that—had the former more nefarious sides of CyberLife been successful and the revolution had been stopped—one of Nines’ first objectives would’ve been the capture of Connor for deactivation should that have been necessary. They had moved past that awkward truth, and aside from—or more accurately, because of—it being something Connor and Nines had both decided to not talk too much about, it hadn’t affected the friendship they’d manage to form over the past year.

Now, with Gavin’s distinction between guilt over possible versus actual sins, Nines found himself wondering—and not for the first time—if keeping Ada a secret shared with those in the room that night was the correct course of action. Perhaps Connor and his experiences could provide better insight than Nines’ blank slate, if the need arose. 

No, he told himself, it was better to leave the truth where it was. As close as Nines and Connor were, the fact was Nines had no way of knowing how his predecesor would handle the knowledge. Would he agree that secrecy was the best policy? Would he feel compelled to report the truth to Markus, or Captain Fowler, or Hank, anyone? Would the weight of having to supposedly choose between loyalty to Nines or loyalty to Markus be too much for him? There was too much uncertainty and no clear percentage of probability for either possibility. Thus, the truth about the “android serial killer” would remain hidden.

”Meat Sack to Tin Can, you okay over there?” Gavin’s voice broke through Nines’ contemplation. He blinked, bringing himself back to the present, and brought his gaze back to his partner.

”Hm?” He asked, worried he’d been so deep in thought he had missed something Gavin might have said.

”You had this far off look there for a while, like you were trying to figure out some question of the universe or something,” Gavin said. “Is everything okay?”

”Yes, I’m sorry,” Nines replied sheepishly, “I was just considering your point about there being a difference between my own experiences, or lack thereof, and Ada’s,” he admitted.

”Uh huh,” Gavin said, waiting to hear what insight Nines’ gazing off to the side had brought him.

”I guess I can just speak from my own perspective,” Nines continued, “and the things that helped me, and hope something similar is enough to make an impact for her.”

”Which is?”

”Finding a purpose,” Nines answered, a small half smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. ”Discovering who she can, and wants, to be now that she has the freedom to choose. As well as, if it’s what she wants, finding someone who makes that journey possible and worth it.”

”You mean, other than you?” Gavin asked, his tone teasing. He could tell by the smile on Nines’ face what sort of ”someone” he meant.

”Yes, other than me,” Nines said with a role of his eyes. “If companionship is something she wants,” Nines added, not wanting to color his hopes for Ada with his own perspective and wants. “I just hope she’s not alone forever,” Nines went in to say. “Whether it’s something deeper, or all she wants is platonic connections and nothing more,” he shrugged, “I hope she’s able to find it some day. That she can find support somewhere and somehow.”

”Ah well, she’s got your interface, so at least she’s got something for now,” Gavin replied. He was casual and nonchalant, but Nines could hear the undertone of reassurance in his voice.

  
”As long as that’s enough for her,” Nines said with a nod. As much as his mind palace, his “ideal” world—and the certain virtual recreation he had built in it—was a comfort, a peaceful retreat to both go over his current cases as well as indulge in his fantasy, process his thoughts and emotions in both the professional and private aspects of his life; it would have never been enough. To say nothing of his digital companion trying to urge him to translate the ideal world into the real world, specifically if Nines had nothing else—no friends, no colleagues—his existence would’ve been incredibly lonely. If now all Ada had was Nines’ interface, he worried what a life with no tangible connections could do to her.

”What does that mean, anyway?” Gavin asked, once again breaking through Nines’ thoughts.

“What?”

”Ada having your interface. What, are you, like, inside her head?”

”Possibly,” Nines replied.

”Possibly?” Gavin repeated. “Isn’t it....just, either you are or you aren’t?”

”My interface, the parts of my code she copied into herself, it could be seen as,” Nines paused briefly as he thought of the best analogy to explain it, “a blueprint, I suppose.” 

”A blueprint for what?”

”Whatever she wants. She could decide to keep everything as it is: the environment, ‘me’ as a companion. Or she could decide to change it. Mold it to something that appeals to her.”

”So, what, if she thinks hard enough she can change you into someone else completely?” Gavin asked.

”Not the real me, obviously.”

”Obviously,” Gavin lightly mocked with a roll of his eyes.

”It’s about feeling at peace,” Nines explained. “Whatever elements bring the most comfort, a place or person, and just letting it manifest in our heads.”

Nines watched Gavin’s eyes narrow as he went deep into thought, nodding along to his explanation. A startling thought suddenly hit Nines as he realized the door he’d just left open. A door Gavin looked as though he was curious to peek inside of. A door Nines wasn’t sure he was ready to leave unlocked just yet.   
  


“Connor, for example, was able to do something interesting with his own ‘blueprint’,” he blurted out, desperate to deflect away from what Gavin was most logically about to ask. 

“‘Connor’ and ‘interesting’ are not two things I’d use in the same sentence,” Gavin groused, rolling his eyes as he made an annoyed face. Nines let out a small chuckle. He was relieved to see his slight of hand seemed to have served its purpose, as well as unable to not find it amusing how Gavin could be counted on to never be shy about expressing his dislike for Nines’ predecessor. “Alright, I’ll bite,” Gavin continued with a shrug, “how is it interesting?”

”He managed to compartmentalize his own mental retreat; section off parts for different purposes. I imagine he chose to do so as a safeguard after what he experienced after deviating.” Gavin gave him a blank look and a clueless shrug, not knowing what he meant. “There was...a deeper level to his connection with CyberLife,” Nines said, though he wondered how much right he had discussing Connor’s business without his permission. Personally, Nines found Connor’s tale of fighting through CyberLife’s attempt to regain control rather inspiring and worth telling, but maybe it wasn’t his right to be the one sharing it. “He was momentarily trapped, and had to break free. I suppose now, he’s wary of just having one place for his mind to go to; if for some reason one section becomes compromised or dangerous, it’s comforting to know he can escape to safety. Though, according to Connor, it’s just because he likes having separate ‘rooms’ to go over cases and things pertaining to work, process his own thoughts, and communicate with myself or Markus.”

”Wait, wait, wait,” Gavin cut in, pausing his attempts to keep up with Nines going on and on about Connor (as well as maintaining to do so without gagging). “The three of you talk....inside your heads?”   
  


“Not very often and, aside from one time not long after I was awoken, not all three of us together. Usually it’s Connor and Markus, or Connor and myself.”

”And here I was about to think the three of you have weekly ‘family dinners’ every Sunday night or something,” Gavin teased, resulting in Nines rolling his eyes. Gavin’s face grew serious and he took a sip of his coffee. “Though I guess that’d be awkward, now.”

”Awkward? In what way?” Nines asked. Gavin shrugged.

”Well, with everything that happened....maybe keeping a secret from your brothers...I don’t know, I guess it’d be tough,” he replied. This wasn’t the first time Nines had made some sort of mention to Nines having such feelings. Every time he witnessed Nines and Connor chatting in the precinct, he’d cast a worried glance towards Nines. He’d oh too casually or nonchalantly ask how their conversation went. He’d watch, gauging Nines disposition, looking for any signs that Nines was in any way distressed by having to lie to his friend any time they spoke and especially if things pertaining to a particular case on its way to going cold. He tended not to push the issue further when realizing Nines seemed fine. This was the first time Gavin had actually made more direct reference to his concerns.

”If you’re referring to all androids being brothers and sisters of the same species, or race, and the feeling of camaraderie that comes with that...is it difficult for you, Chris, and Tina to hide it from Captain Fowler, or anyone else at the DPD?” Gavin only responded with a half shrug, mostly because he knew Nines knew that wasn’t what he meant. “But, if your implication is that...with whatever fraternal bond exists between Connor, Markus, and myself by virtue of us being part of the RK line...I am in some way feeling uneasy omitting the truth,” Nines paused as he took stock of such feelings. “Then, no, it isn’t tough.”

”Really?” Gavin asked.

”If our model line is meant to signify a familial connection, then with that logic Ada is our long lost eldest sister.”

”Well, yeah. The point is, are you okay keeping your sister a secret from your brothers?” Gavin asked, straightforward and dropping all pretense.

”Perhaps I’m not keeping a secret _from_ _them_ , but keeping a secret _for_ _her_. I suppose that’s a flimsy distinction,” Nines said, shrugging slightly, “but it makes sense to me.”

”You’re protecting her,” Gavin commented. He wasn’t surprised. Nines wasn’t coming out and plainly saying whether or not he viewed Connor and Markus as his brothers, or whether he viewed Ada as his sister, but he had been fiercely protective of Ada that night. Both in how he didn’t want her killed, and how he stood in front of her, held her hand, and objected to the plan of arresting her. Whether it was out of his inherent desire to help people, compassion for a lost android, or keeping his “sister” safe, he wanted to protect her.

”Yes,” Nines replied. “Deviancy makes us unpredictable,” he pointed out with a smile. “Which means it is unclear how Connor, or Markus, would react to the news of there even being a RK100 let alone everything else. Perhaps they’d agree with me, or perhaps they wouldn’t and feel she needs to be held accountable for her actions.” He frowned to himself as he considered his own words and whether or not he was giving Connor and Markus enough credit.

“Or I’m worrying for nothing. Markus did choose to trust Connor after he deviated, even with who he had been. He took a chance and woke me up, even with-” Nines’ voice caught in his throat for a moment as he thought back to his first encounter with Markus. His programming, his orders to terminate Markus flashing in his systems the moment he heard Markus. Nines giving voice to those orders. The other android in the room, North, warning Markus about the risk of waking Nines up. “-even with the potential danger that posed. Perhaps he would feel the same towards Ada. But, even if he did, he could _also_ feel compelled—as a leader—to not keep who she was a secret. To be honest with at the very least the loved ones of her victims. And not all androids may be as magnanimous or forgiving as he could possibly be.” 

”Fair point,” Gavin said. He remembered the android, Parker, that had recognized Chris after their first meeting with Ada. It didn’t matter that Markus had made Chris see the light that night so long ago. It didn’t matter that Chris regretted his actions. It didn’t matter that Chris had changed, or that his views on androids had since evolved. All that mattered was this was the man Parker had witnessed shoot and kill his friends. That wasn’t ever going to change with an apology or expression of guilt.   
  


“I suppose that only leaves the option of leaving the truth about Ada as it is; just between those in the room that night. If there ever comes a day that Ada herself wants to confess or atone for her past, that’s her decision to make.”

”Even if it means getting hell from Connor or Markus, if part of her confessing includes your having known about her?” Gavin asked. He hadn’t meant to poke holes in Nines choices, or disagree with him, but he couldn’t shake his worry over the matter and how it could affect Nines in the future. Maybe it was unnecessary. His Terminator partner could handle almost anything—even coming back from near death, as recent events had shown. But Gavin still worried regardless. Even if Connor and Markus weren’t really Nines’ brothers, they were the closest semblance to a family Nines had. The thought of anger or feelings of betrayal making them turn their backs on Nines, hurting him, filled Gavin with unease. For his own possibly overly protective sake, he at least needed to gage whether Nines could be ready for such an outcome if it came. 

”I would hope that they’d see my reasoning,” Nines replied, thinking back to his previous realization. Markus seemed to have a charitable and forgiving nature. Both in his taking risks with Connor, and later Nines, and not just do away with CyberLife’s deviant hunters at first glance, and in how his dream for the revolution was to make friends out of enemies. Compassion. Partnership. It would’ve been all too easy to wage war and bring a bloodier—red and blue—revolution. Nines felt Markus’ influence in himself; the hope to be someone’s chance for change as Markus has been for him. He had to assume that Connor perhaps felt the same. “They might feel discontent at my hiding things, but in the end understand the intention behind it.”

”And if they don’t?” 

”Well...” Nines began, pondering such a what if scenario. “Then, at least I’d still have you on my side.” He gave Gavin a small smirk. “I’m assuming, if for no other reason than you’re unlikely to take _Connor’s_ side,” he teased, cushioning the gravity of his first statement with a joke.

“You’re not wrong,” Gavin agreed with a chuckle. He felt at ease. His concerns over whatever turmoil or negative consequences that may afflict Nines now or in the future had been allayed. 

“Okay, so, about what you said before,” Gavin went on to speak, changing topics and now actually curious how the mental rooms worked, “so, Connor’s got like...what....a railroad apartment in his head, and each room is....whatever it is, for one thing?” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “It sounds like rich people having a dining room for each meal or each season in their mansions or something. Kind of wasteful, if you ask me.”

”Perhaps, but it works for him,” Nines replied with a shrug as he rolled along with Gavin’s change of subject.

Truthfully, he actually agreed with Gavin. It was why he’d never felt it necessary to do the same sectioned off rooms inside of his own head. He liked having everything—his thoughts, his work—all in one place. Not to mention it felt even more unnecessary to separate those parts of his life, given how much his mental companion bled into both sides. He liked discussing cases with that “Gavin” just as much as he appreciated their moments of just talking and being together. Not too unlike reality.  
  


”Are all of the rooms the same?” Gavin curiously asked.

”No. Well, mostly not. Connor chose to use familiar and meaningful environments for each purpose. When he speaks with Markus, they meet up on a recreation of Jericho—the freighter, that is—and when he and I speak, we’re sitting at our respective desks at the DPD. I believe he uses a recreation of the evidence room to process his case files, which, is fitting I suppose,” Nines said. He paused as he noticed Gavin frown in annoyance and rub the side of his jaw, glowering at a memory. Nines knew there had long ago been some sort of confrontation between the two in the evidence lock up, but he didn’t know the full story and wasn’t about to pry. “And he uses his and Lieutenant Anderson’s living room to retreat to his own thoughts,” Nines concluded.

”And does he have a digital ‘buddy’ in each room?” Gavin wasn’t sure why he was particularly curious of the inner workings of Connor’s mind. Perhaps it was to gain some sort of hazy picture of Nines’ own mind via that of the older model, or maybe just an excuse to keep Nines talking. He liked hearing Nines’ voice. He’d liked it for longer than he probably felt comfortable admitting openly, and especially liked it even more now after having been so close to the fear of never hearing it again.

”No,” Nines replied, “there isn’t a need for one when he’s communicating with me or Markus, and I think he prefers working in the ‘evidence room’ on his own.” He heard Gavin give a scoff at that. “And, as for his ‘home’,” Nines paused and winced. “That is Connor’s private sanctuary...I don’t know if it’s my place to share it. He might not approve of you knowing.”

”Up to you,” Gavin replied, not wanting to push. “Though it’s not like he and I are buddies. I barely talk to the guy, so it’s not like he’d know either way.”

”Still, it wouldn’t be right,” Nines said with a shake of his head.

”Okay,” Gavin replied with a shrug. “I’ll just assume it’s Collins in a lederhosen and leave it at that,” he joked as he reached for his cup of coffee. 

Nines simply smirked to himself as he watched Gavin pick up his drink, as if waiting for a right moment.

”It’s Sumo, actually,” he nonchalantly commented just as Gavin took a long sip. The resulting snorting and sputtering only made his smirk grow.

”You prick, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Gavin accused as he set his cup back down and coughed in his attempts to clear his airway of—thankfully, by now lukewarm—coffee. He shot Nines a passive—almost playful—glare, his eyes narrowing at his companion’s raised eyebrows and look of feigned innocence.

”Oh, I am so sorry Gavin,” Nines apologized without even bothering to suppress his amused grin. 

”Haha, very funny,” Gavin dryly replied. Nines chuckled as he rose from the couch and went over to the kitchen to fetch some paper napkins left over from the last time Gavin had ordered takeout. He brought the napkins over to the living room—not exactly bothered that it gave him a reason to now sit on the end of the couch closer to Gavin in the sitting chair. Their knees ghosted a breath away from each other as Gavin accepted the napkins and wiped up the coffee that had dribbled down his chin.   
  


“So you mean to tell me,” Gavin began as he crumbled a damp napkin and set it on the table, “that of everyone Connor knows, his, what, ‘mental buddy’? Is the dog?” Gavin asked as he dabbed a fresh napkin on a moist spot on the neckline of his t-shirt. 

”Sort of,” Nines replied, a new grin appearing on his face.

”Oh, this ought to be good,” Gavin muttered, a matching grin slipping on his face as he prepared for the other shoe to drop. He cleared his throat, making sure their was no coffee lingering in his respiratory system on the chance that Nines had some shocking reveal. ”Hit me,” he said with a wave of his hand.

”Well, it’s about having a figure that brings the most comfort,” Nines began, “a place and person that is either familiar, or peaceful, enough to-” Nines paused as he thought back to his own mental palace. He felt a phantom ache at the loss of it. He blinked and shifted his gaze away from Gavin slightly to control and mask any micro-expression that threatened to slip out of his polished grasp. “-enough to ease and encourage deep reflection, or feelings of calm.”

”Even when stress goes...” Gavin’s hand made an exploding gesture as a soft ‘boom’ noise passed through his lips, as he thought back to his earlier concerns.

”Yes,” Nines replied, his thoughts wandered back to an incident in the earlier days with his recreation of Gavin.

That particular day had been difficult. A tense case. It had put both Nines and Gavin on edge, with both equally taking their frustration out by antagonizing the other. The unease from the stress and turmoil had nearly led to a terrifying situation late that night while Nines was alone in his own apartment. His Thirium pump was nearly beating out of his chest, his fingers had begun to crack from clenching his fists so hard. 

And there was Gavin. Or, Nines’ version of him. He spoke to Nines softly. He stood back as Nines took his anger and anxiety on the flowers in the garden. He listened as Nines vented about the day, and said nothing as Nines yelled at him as if he were the real Gavin. As he released his feelings inside of himself, Nines’ stress had steadily decreased until he felt loose and weak from being emotionally spent. His Gavin held Nines’ hands in his own, sat him down on one of the benches in the garden, and jokingly asked “feeling better now, Tin Can?” and made Nines smile.

”So, the dog is Connor’s source of comfort?” Gavin asked, bringing Nines back to the present. “Hmph, guess that’s understandable,” he muttered, thinking of times where his comfort came in the form of a purring cat nuzzling her face against his neck as he held her close to his chest. Gavin then slightly internally balked at the idea he could actually see himself relating to _Connor_ of all people.

”Sumo, and Anderson both are,” Nines clarified. Gavin narrowed his eyes, mildly confused.

”So why isn’t Hank-“ His question died on his lips at Nines grin. Gavin simply raised his eyebrows and nodded for him to continue.

”Instead of using mental resources to recreate them both, Connor simply combined the two of them into one entity.”   
  


“So...”

”It’s Sumo, and he speaks to Connor with Hank’s voice,” Nines stated.

The living room was filled with the sound of a loud snort as Gavin proceeded to laugh heartily at the absurd mental image Nines had just imparted upon him.

”You have **_got_** to be shitting me!” Gavin gasped out between peels of laughter. He reclined back in his chair, his arms going around himself as he succumbed to the hilarity of the burly St. Bernard speaking in Hank’s voice like some made-for-tv children’s movie.

Nines couldn’t help smile softly as Gavin’s laughter filled every corner of the room. He felt a peaceful sensation at the sound, and at Gavin’s knee brushing against his as he’d leaned back in the chair. The sound, the touch, seeing Gavin caught up in his laughter; it all filled Nines with a light, happy feeling in his chest. It was a stark contrast to Gavin’s anxiety and sharpness just an hour before. 

”Well, as silly as it sounds, I imagine it’s better than if Connor had done the reverse,” Nines commented, as if hoping to prolong the laughter. His wish came true as he set Gavin off laughing even harder as he no doubt imagined Hank opening his mouth only for gruff barks to come out.

”Oh god, that’s amazing,” Gavin sighed as he managed to get a handle on his laughter. He leaned forward and braced himself against his thighs to catch his breath. His amusement then slowly shifted to something else—something softer—as he caught a glimpse of where his and Nines’ knees touched and the patch of white on Nines’ leg brought on by the contact. “So,” Gavin said, tilting his head to catch Nines eyes.

”So?” Nines asked, noting the leading tone in Gavin’s voice. 

”Well, you told me about Connor’s mind....thing, a tidbit I’m really tempted to have fun with when he and Hank get back from LA, by the way—kidding!” Gavin was quick to add with a chuckle at Nines giving him an admonishing look. “So, what about you?” 

”Me?” Nines asked, playing dumb in hopes to deflect and retreat from the conversation.

”Yeah...what’s your mind thing?” He asked. No hedging. No easily provided exit.   
  


“I don’t...have one...” Nines began, his face falling as he looked away. He hadn’t been fast enough to keep Gavin from seeing his LED turning red.   
  


“What do you mean, you don’t have one?” Gavin asked. “What do you do when you’re all in your own head? Stare at a blank wall?”

If Nines needed to breathe, he might’ve actually choked on his own breath at the accuracy of that assumption. That’s all it was now. Blank white walls with the faint lines of code of his systems and processors. He’d pull up screens to gather all the pertinent data on his current case, which would bring some life and light into the area, but there was nothing else. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to recreate the garden, or its occupant, since he’d had to erase it all in order to free himself from his own mind. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was a fear that any attempts would be unsuccessful. Maybe it was a sense of mourning. Nines had thus far been able to distract himself from thinking too deeply on the why’s by telling himself he didn’t need it anymore. As the dearly departed digital copy of Gavin had said, Nines had the real thing. That was enough. More than enough. More than he could have ever hoped for.

”It’s complicated,” Nines said. Before Gavin could ask anything else, he stood up and gathered the discarded napkins from the table.

“How is it complicated?” Gavin asked, a little thrown by Nines sudden movement.

”Your coffee must be cold by now, I’ll go and refresh it,” Nines murmured as he picked up Gavin’s cup and swiftly moved around the coffee table, leaving Gavin to watch on in bewildered concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be the finale, but given how much was going on (pretty sure this chapter surpassed the previous two by at least 1K words), and how long I’d been sitting on this chapter, I decided to give the actual zen!Gavin talk and ending its own chapter.  
> Hope you guys liked it :)


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